


Blurred Lines

by Jane0Doe



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Newt Scamander, BAMF Queenie Goldstein, Dark Newt Scamander, Dragons, Family Magik, Female Newt Scamander, Grey Newt Scamander, Hurt Newt Scamander, Kinda, Old Magic, Protective Newt Scamander, Realistic Grindelwald, War, World War I, World War II, not explicit, vague references of rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-08-18 19:33:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16523297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jane0Doe/pseuds/Jane0Doe
Summary: Life has not been kind to Nymphaea Scamander.In a world where Newt was born a girl she is an outcast not only due to her love (obsession) of magical creatures, but also because she refuses to conform to Britains (backwards) views of how a women should act and her station.Life has hardened Nymphaea in unexpected ways and she learned early on to wear a mask and act like all is fine. Not even her beloved big brother noticed the cracks, or perhaps he just didn't c- STOP!Offered the opertunity to follow her dreams and write a book on her beloved creatures by a friend she met during the war, Nyphaea grabs the opportunity with both hands and flees England without a backward glance, save to bid her favourite teacher fair well.The only problem is that she's caught someones notice and she cant seem to shake it. Flying under the radar for so long seems to have just made her even more intriging to the crazy Bastard.





	1. First Meetings

Exhaustion dogged her every movement as she ran through the Amazonian forest, desperately trying to evade her pursuers.

In the last 6 months Nymphaea Scamander had barely slept as she desperately ran from whatever was after her. 

Nym was used to people chasing her. It was a part of her lifestyle that couldn’t really be mitigated or prevented. After all, there were only so many criminal operations you could take down whilst protecting creatures before those very same criminals started to try and deal with you. Permanently.

The difference this time was that this wasn’t some smuggling ring with a grudge, or a isolated dark Mage or even dark coven. This was an organisation. Whenever she managed to lose or even incapacitate one of the bastards two more would pop up and try to capture her.

 

She had almost made it past the borders of the forest and the anti-apparation wards they had erected when she was forced to dodge back, and dive or risk being hit by a spell of completely unknown origin.

 

That’s it.

Screw playing nice, Nymphaea was done holding back.

People may believe that she wasn’t on the same level as her big brother, but these bastards would rue the day they thought they could go after a Scamander.

 

With a controlled twist of her wrist, she transfigured the leaves from a near by tree into poison tipped razor knives. With a sharp and decisive flick she sent them flying in her attacker’s direction.

If Theseus was here he'd probably be horrified at her for using such underhanded tactics, but she was exhausted and knew that if she continued to hold back and use only honourable measures she would be captured. She had learned quickly during the War what happened to those captured by enemy combatants and she would not risk that fate. Honour and Morality be damned.

But her blades never reached her target. Blocking them with shocking ease a man materialised from the shadows. He was chuckling softly as the disillusionment spell he had hidden behind faded.

“Your cheap parlour tricks will not work on me like they did on my followers Miss Scamander.”

The flush that had coloured her face; thanks to the exertion of running for so long; drained away as she realised who stood before her.

 

**Grindelwald.**

 

How in Merlins name had her life ended up here!?!


	2. The Aftermath of War and Life in General

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> War is never kind.
> 
> It can be both a force of change and a force of destruction  
> It is the embodyment of both order and chaos. For all that the Carnage seems Senseless and Chaotic, War is often driven by Greed and Humanities desire for Control.
> 
> It is in the aftermath of War when we must piece ourselves together or crumble, that we descover who we truly are.

She was Breaking.

Not that anyone could tell. No one ever noticed the cracks before, why should they see them now. Only three people had come close to seeing how damaged she truly was.

**Professor Dumbledore**

**Leta Lestrange**

**Aethelwulf Shacklebolt**

One had tried to help believing she could be fixed, another had taken advantage of her and the final had accepted her as she was and simply been there. She loved each in her own way no matter the pain they had caused, but it was Shacklebolt that she truly adored. Their friendship had been forged on the battlefield of the first great war and was the rock that kept her from drowning. 

Nymphaea may have become very good at lying, but she never lied to herself. The cracks had been there for as long as she could remember. Hidden by a varnish of pureblood poise and elegance, but still there. It was only since she had come back from the war that she had begun to finally break.

For all the horror and pain her time in the army had caused her, it had given her a taste of the freedom that Nym had never truly realised she longed for.

The heady feeling was addictive and the loss of it coupled with being unable to talk about what she’d experienced was doing more to break her than her childhood and Hogwarts years combined.

Her big brother Thee might have understood, he might have even been able to help her seeing as he had also fought during the war, but she could never tell him. 

Theseus, just like her parents, had never stopped looking at Nymphaea like she was a child in need of being directed, coddled, **_Controlled_**. They never would have let her fight. Would sooner have seen her married to some pompous bastard and _safe_ then fighting. 

So, she’d told them she had been offered an apprenticeship and disappeared to the continent, where she promptly joined the Allied Wixen forces. 

If he ever discovered what she’d done… well, the Prewitt family were not the only ones known - _cough_ \- infamous - _cough_ \- for their tempers. 

.

.

Nym had always had a special affinity to nature, an ability to feel it on an entirely different level. It had taken her an embarrassing long time to realise that the people around her were unable to communicate with and feel the minds and magic of creatures in the way she could. Even then it was only during the war that she fully understood the true magnitude of how different she was from other witches and wizards.

She was an Empath.

A Wixen with the ability to instinctively speak with, communicate and feel any and all creatures or beings with magical origins. Had she ever bothered to, she would have found that she easily understood the languages of sentient magical beings and that learning them came as naturally as breathing. There was more too it of course but, everything else was mere speculation, as any other knowledge had been lost when the muggle Emperor burned the Library of Alexandria.

The desire for Empaths within the army was so great that even when her true identity was discovered they did not force her back home and actually helped her forge paperwork for a herbology apprenticeship. they even awarded her the Mastery in it once it was proven she knew all the necessary information, so that _if_ she make it back home her family would not question her lie.

And it was _if_.

Within the entirety of the Allied Wixen forces, there were just over three dozen witches and wizards with her ability, and of those only 5 were on the same level as her and Aethelwulf. By the end of the war there was only a dozen of them left. Most were officially registered as M.I.A (Missing In Action), though they all knew that the others were probably dead.

The ministry had gathered any Wixen with the barest scraps of this ability towards the beginning of the war, when the Central Powers Wixen Forces had first started using magical creatures. It had been an attempt to form a countermeasure, and even now Nym could not say for certain whether the sacrifices that had been made were worth it. The instincts and urges that she had developed still tried to overwhelm her at times. For all that their Squadron had been entirely black ops and off the books missions, they had been one of the biggest reasons the war had turned in their favour. Her Unit had been viscous and Brutal in a way that meant most of them could no longer sleep at night due to the blood on there hands.

All but those of the highest authority believed that the reason creatures; more specifically Dragons; had stopped appearing on the battle field was because the opposing forces had lost control of them. Which was true to a certain extent. After the _untimely_ deaths of several of the Central Powers generals and lieutenants both on and off the battlefield, their forces had not been able to coral the poor creatures as they had before, and had turned to abuse and violence in order to direct them. From there it had been easy for the Empaths to turn them on those that rode and fought on them.

She could still sometimes see the blood and hear the screams when she closed her eyes.

.

.

After the war she had planned to go home and stay just long enough to assure her family that she was safe before disappearing into the wilderness of the world that she had grown so attached to. She would travel from continent to continent, country to country, place to place. Never stopping, always moving. Perhaps she would even write that book that she and Shacks had spoke of over firewhiskey, on nights when gunfire kept them awake unable to sleep.

But her plans were not to be.

No sooner had she returned home, she discovered that she was not the only one who had been effected by the war.

Theseus was sharper. Quick to anger, and even quicker to turn it on those around him. Or perhaps it was just Nym? She had always been an easy target and she was loath to retort for fear of hurting her brother (never mind that he cared not for the pain he caused her). whatever the case, Theseus's clever way with words and silver tong had been sharpened into a weapon. one he used liberally to push those around him away. How could she have left when he was clearly in so much pain? Nymphaea liked to remind herself that had her big brother known she was in pain he would have done much the same for her. She alwas ignored the little voice that asked _"Would he really?"_ It was wrong. It had to be.

As for her parents, they had spent the war in a state of near constant terror over their children's safety. Not so much about Nymphaea as Theseus, seeing as they believed her to be safely hidden away earning her Mastery. But the point still stood. How could she leave? How could she abandon England once more when she knew it would cause her parents unwarranted fear. She could not do this to them. they deserved better than to be abandoned by their daughter. Never mind her own silly dreams and wants (needs), her family were far more important.

Perhaps if they had thought of her needs, the same way she did theirs she might not have turned out so broken. But humans are inherently selfish creatures, and rare is the person who so easily thinks of others before themselves

So, instead she worked as a secretary in the Department of Creature Containment and Disposal at the ministry. Slowly falling apart at the seams, all the while a polite smile was pasted on her face and an empty look gleamed within her eyes. 

In this state of constant drowning, Nym lived for the days when she could meet up with Shacklebolt and simply be herself. Though these meetings were becoming rarer. Unable to go out into the muggle world due to their irrational hatred of certain skin colours and unwilling to meet within public wixen places due to the gossip it would surely cause. 

Their meetings were the only thing keeping her afloat, but gradually even they were no longer enough to keep her from splintering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think?
> 
> had a day off and inspiration hit me/
> 
> Was this too much? or do you want more like this?
> 
> pls let me know


	3. An Intervention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes when you're drowning, it takes someone else throwing you a life preserve to realise you need help.
> 
> Dragons, truths and friendships that never were. 
> 
> Is this finally the start of Nyms life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!IMPORTANT!!!!  
> After watching fantastic beasts 2 I realised that WW2 hasn't happened yet as well as a number of other things. Because of this I made minor changes to the last to chapters. I plan to incorporate some of movie 2 but only the parts I liked as the ending was a complete clusterfuck in some ways.

_\-----CRACK!_

_She landed on Angarika’s back and ran a soothing hand over the scales of her neck. After a few moments the tension left her baby’s body and her fiery little girl was back on her best behaviour._

_CRACK!_

_She miscalculated her apparation and reappeared too far above Azar. Lashing out with battle honed instincts, she barely managed to latch on to the saddle and bodily drag herself into it through the wind current created by her darlings’ wings._

_Azar needed far less soothing than Angarika. But then that was to be expected seeing as this wasn’t his first time flying into battle against enemy forces._

_CRACK!_

_She landed with ease this time on Hephaestus and barely managed to hold on as he tried to buck her off in his fear. With no other option she pushed her magic into his body soothing the inner turmoil and helping him to cope with the carnage that was occurring around them._

_She should have been paying more attention._

_Pain._

_OhGodMakeItStopMakeITSTOPMAKEITSTOPMAKRITSTOPMAKEITSHOPMAKEITSTOPMAKEITSTOPMAKEITST-_

_She broke away from Azars consciousness before it could destroy her and focused back on the real world._

_A piece of shrapnel had managed to pierce her Azzie's side! Red coloured her vision and she barely stopped herself from lunging off of him to rip the throats out of those who would injure one of her babies!_

_As much as she wanted revenge Azar needed her now. Slipping down out of the saddle so that only a fool looped through a strap prevented her from falling she pressed her palms to his wounded side and pored her magic in._

_But it wasn’t enough._

_They were falling. So, so, far and so, so fast. Smoke and flame, blood and ash, gunfire and sulfur surrounded them a they grew closer and closer to crashing. The earth so close now and getting Closer._

_She could feel her fellow riders screaming at her through the bond to apparate away but how could she abandon him to this fate alone? She couldn’t leave!  
She closed her eyes unwilling to watch as-_

_CRACK!_

_Strong arms rapped around her and----_

Nymphaea woke with a choked sob, tear in her eyes and the smell of burning flesh still searing her nose. 

In a matter of seconds her pureblood mask, of a simple if slightly awkward socialite, was back in place and any who might have glimpsed her fractured edges assumed they had imagined it. After all, everyone new she had lived a charmed life. She hadn’t even seen the great war, what with completing her herbology mastery in Australia.

 

.

 

It was a short while later, when the boredom of the paperwork was beginning to get to her that she felt to hands cover her eyes. She froze for barely a second before  
relaxing as she heard the soft chuckle of her closest friend.

“For Merlin’s sake Shacks! Don’t bloody do that to me!” she yelped as she elbowed him hard, eyes flickering around to make sure no one was there to see them together. She didn’t need someone misconstruing their friendship and gossiping about it. If her parents heard, or merlin forbid it Theseus!

“Relax, everyone else has gone to lunch! Which begs the question of what you’re doing up here still.”

Rubbing her face tiredly she motioned towards the paperwork.

Shacks scowled and mumbled a set of rather vicious profanities about how this wasn’t her job causing a giggle to work its way out before she could stop it.

If the pleased smile on her face was any indication, making her laugh had been his intention.

“you know how old Director Abbotts is. He should have retired years ago, but he knew they would replace him with someone who didn’t care about the creatures. Someone who wouldn’t try to save them. How can I not help him maintain his position in any way possible?”

“I know, I know. But Nym, you need to start thinking about yourself. You can’t simply-”

“I won’t Leave Shacks. I can’t; my colleagues, my parents, the ministry, my Brother-”

“Screw Your Brother Nym! Your breaking apart. Have been since the war and you need to leave. Go to France, Belgium, Russia! Hell, go to Africa and write the book about creature like you’ve dreamed of! I’ve already spoken to lord Longbottom and he’s willing to finance a trip around the world for you to write it. He wants to read it even if no one else does. And even if he didn’t, you have the money thanks to claiming those vaults under right of conquest-” 

“SHACKS!” Nym cut in sharply breaking off his desperate rambling before it could overwhelm her.

“I cant abandon the people I love. I wont. You know this so-”

“Don’t worry Nym” Cut in a voice from the doorway. “We’ll be fine without you. You deserve to be happy.”

Davina was the closest thing to a friend that Nymphaea had within the entire ministry. There were far to many secrets and unspoken beliefs between the two women for true friendship.

But Vie was kind, and upon discovering her and Shacks in a disused room together talking had chosen to proclaim ignorance rather than run to her older brother. Since then Vie had always been willing to cover for them should Shacklebolt stop by.

Nym was sure the other woman thought they were a couple -no matter what she said otherwise; but whenever she broached the topic, dear Davina would simply smile softly and say “all that matters is that he makes you smile.”

With Shacks and Vie both tag teaming her and her own secret desire ( _need_ ) to leave, it wasn’t long before her resolve crumbled and she gave in. With tears in her eyes she hugged them both tightly and wrote her letter of resignation.

“Are you sure Lord Longbottom truly wants to fund my expedition?” she asked uncertainly, letter clutched tightly to her chest in shaking hands.

No one ever truly cared for her creatures, not really. She had learned that lesson a long time ago.

“Yes Nym.” Stated Aethelwulf fondly, though his tone was tinged with slightly with exasperation.

“Besides,” he added jokingly “the chance to get one over the great and powerful Director Scamander is more than enough reason for him to fund this. Theseus’s face when he realises your gone will be a sight”

“My brother isn’t that bad” began Nymphaea, her tone tinged with disapproval and reproach.

“Yes he is.”

Shockingly is was not Shacklebolt that said this, but Davina.

“I may never have spoken to your brother in person, but I’ve seen the effect he has on you. I’ve seen the way he treats you.”

“He doesn’t- I mean- he Doesn’t mean to- I- I’m just-” shame welled in her chest as Nym realised that she was beginning to cry again. 

“You have done nothing and deserve better Nym” said Vie firmly as she took Nymphaea’s hands in her own. “Now go, pack and be free. When your brother comes we  
will tell him nothing.”

“No. NO, Vie! If, when my brother comes you will claim ignorance. I cant, I would never forgive myself if you got hurt”

Neither shacks or Vie brought up that her fear proved that her brother was not kind to her. She was thankful for that small mercy.

As Nm packed her stuff to leave Aethelwulf moved close to Dvina and speaking softly said “Theseus will not leave without something. When he eventually comes demanding answers, and he will make no mistake, send him in my direction. I’ve been wanting to take a crack at him for years now.” He finished with a slight snarl as his emotions overcame him.

Grinning wickedly, Vie nodded her assent before asking, “send me a pensieve?”

“Of course.”

Shaking on it they turned back to Nym who was finished packing away the meagre number of possessions she had on her desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to take a chapter out of JK's book and chose names with significant or relvant meanings:
> 
> Aethelwulf : This name is of Germanic origin, composed of two elements: “*aþalaz” (noble, nobleman, aristocratic, eminent, glorious, excellent) plus “*-wulfaz” (wolf). In turn the name means “noble wolf”. Shacks, much like a noble wolf is aloyal friend, but he is also a predator. I have plans for him but I wont say what as that would be telling
> 
> Angarika : An eternal flame coloured flower or a forest; Palash. perfect for a fire breathing dragon.
> 
> Azar : Iranian: from a personal name based on Persian azer ‘fire’, also denoting the ninth month of Persian solar year. Ethnic name for an Azeri. The Azeri people (so named from Persian azer ‘fire’, because they were originally fire worshipers) are Shiite Muslims who mostly live in Azerbaijan, on the Caspian Sea to the north of Iran.
> 
> Davina : Scottish for beloved or friend it also means Divine in Spanish. this will not be the last we see of her.
> 
> Hephaestus : the Greek god of fire and forging. and what is a dragon if not a being of fire
> 
> Nymphaea : with Latin roots, nymphaea is a family of water lilies. Lilies represent Amiability, purity, love, fertility, femininity, unity and transience. Lilies for all there beauty though are also a sign of mourning and have a depth to them when it comes to symbolism and imagery that most don't.


	4. A Rosiers Insights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never let it be said that a Slytherin doesn't know how to take advantage of a sittuation so they can spin it to their own advantage.
> 
> An insight into the mind of Davina Rosier and what she was thinking after helping to convince Nymphaea to follow her Dreams.

#### Davina Rosier

#### 

##### Potential

##### 

Davina was not a stupid woman, and no matter what Nymphaea might think she knew that she and Shacklebolt were not lovers. That didn’t mean they hadn’t been. 

The way that they sought comfort from each other. The ease with which they moved together and relaxed when one was near. Vie saw something similar to it often at pureblood parties where old lovers would meet and smile secretively at one another. The only really difference was that Shacklebolt and Nym had clearly moved on by choice and not by force. There was a lightness to their smiles; untainted by bitterness, regret or the weight of what could have been; when they looked at one another that would not have been there otherwise.

Arranged marriages were still very common within the ranks of pureblood society. Every child grew up knowing that they were expected to do their duty to strengthen old alliances or create new ones. Emotions, **Love** , it never factored in to it. It was an unspoken rule within high society gatherings not to mention the past dalliances of those around you, other than to comment on how this and that person were ‘old friends’, and even that was pushing it. Once you married, you left all past relationships behind. That didn’t mean that closeness disappeared, merely that it changed.

Divina knew that most of the upper crust looked down on all the Scamander family, save Theseus. They believed him to be the only one within their family capable of displaying the proper breeding expected of a Wixen with such a heritage. If only they knew the truth, they would probably all keel over from shock. It still made her laugh just to think of their reactions.

Of the two, Divina could honestly say that it was Nymphaea that was truest when it came to her pureblood roots. So much so that there were times when Divina wondered how the young woman had avoided Slytherin with how easily she manipulated those around her. Then again, Nym never did anything for her own gain, but instead worked and played those around her for the betterment of those she loved and cared for. Or even those she felt deserved the extra help. 

Davina would never admit it, but the first time she had witnessed Nym seduce and manipulate a ministry drone with a flutter of her eyes and a coy smile, in order to save some no name muggleborn in their department from being sacked for something they hadn't even done, she'd barely been able to conceal her shock. That it was a women who Vie knew wasn't even into the fairer sex and was very much straight only made her skills even more terrifying. 

Nym had turned back into the sweet and simple if a little awkward light affiliated pureblood the moment the blushing rep had left, and everyone else had quickly gotten over it and forgotten. Dismissing it from there minds. 

Davina had not. That kind of skill was valuable and spoke of depth within the women that Vie had, embarrassingly, failed to realise she had. since then she had watched and waited. Hoping for another slip or a chance to get closer. It was because of this that she had discovered the women with Aethelwulf Shacklebolt, the unofficially disowned second son of a prominent Light family who was rumoured to have used dark magic during the war.

Nym truly was a curious creature.

Like any good Slytherin she had taken hold of the opportunity presented to her with both hands, and had successfully gotten closer to the woman than anyone else in the Department had. It had not been without consequences though. The women, Nym, had managed to make a place for herself in Divina's heart and had pushed her into revealing parts of herself that no one save those she loved had seen since she had learned how to wear a mask. Nym was no longer a simple curiosity, she was Davina's now even if she did not know it and Vie protected those she saw as her own. she rather imagined that Nymphaea was much the same.

It was through experiencing Nymphaea's kindness and realising that it wasn't just an act to garner trust that she finally understood why the woman was most definitely a Hufflepuff, for all she showed some enviable Slytherin traits.

Divina may not have the sight, but she could see that Nymphaea would become someone great. She just needed a… _Push_ , shall we say, in the right direction.

Whispers were circling of a Dark Lord in the making.

Davina knew what side she would be on, as a Rosier the chose was already made for her. oh, it wasn’t like she had no choice at all, she could remain neutral if she truly wanted to. But she didn’t. This Grindelwald had the potential to Make History and save their already stagnating world. 

His opinion on muggleborns and his belief that it was power not blood that mattered may put off some of her fellow British purebloods, but it was _thrilling_ to her. With a bastard half-blood sister who she adored, Davina knew better than most that purity did not equate to power. Her darling Lakita was a powerhouse similar to Nym, but her so called sullied blood would prevent her from rising in any Ministry department save the Aurors, and Vies heart froze whenever she thought of her little sister risking her life in such a way.

Yes, Davina knew which side she would choose. She could only hope that with a little bit of redirection and a healthy bit of separation from her brutish brother, her almost-friend would choose the same.

Perhaps it was time to bridge that gap? After all, Nym was unlikely to say no to a pen pal and convincing her from afar was likely the better option now, what with her being outside the influence of people like Director Scamander who still saw the world as black and white. Even after fighting in that horrific muggle war honestly, Gryffindor's never changed. Not to mention that with someone like Nymphaea; who could read body language with an ease that would make anyone jealous, if they even bloody realised she was doing it; writing might have the best chance of success. They may be close but Nym would not take kindly to manipulation. Even if it was for her own good.

Yes. She would take this opportunity as the gift it was to grow closer to her not-quite-friend, and if she happened to convince Nym along the way? Well she was a Slytherin after all and they were known for always having another angle or incentive behind every action.

It really would be for Nymphaea’s own good.

.

Never let it be said that a Slytherin was not possessive or protective of those they considered theirs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you see what I did!
> 
> I know I literally just updated but this struck me and I just had to write it.  
> don't expect updates to become this common ok?
> 
> also:
> 
> Lakita : the treasure that is found
> 
>  
> 
> pls let me know what you think or if you have any good ideas  
> thx u for all your support


	5. The Bonds That Bind Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magic can do many terrible things.  
> but we must not forget that it is also wonderous.
> 
>  
> 
> Through Blood, Family Magik's and even Experience, it ties us to those that are a part of us in a bond like no other.  
> Through this bond Wixens may always be with those we Love, never to know the pain of true isolation save by the darkest of magics or most heinous of crimes.
> 
> Whilst it is possible to supress or even block a bond, they never truly leave us.

#### Theseus Scamander

#### 

##### Brother by Blood and Magic

##### 

Something was wrong. 

Theseus didn’t know what exactly it was, but he knew in his core that something had changed. A balance had tipped. Something so profound that he was feeling the ripples of it through his magic.

Closing his eyes, Thee allowed himself to drift and reach out for those that he was bonded to, be it through blood, magic, experience or more.

Undoing the barriers that he had formed during the war and never really tried to remove, he flinched slightly as he felt the edges of those bonds that had been severed by death, but persevered in order to find the source.

There!

Excitement. Terror. Guilt. Uncertainty. Resolve. Thrilling fear of the unknown. And…. Pain. There was an undercurrent of pain that thrummed like an old wound that had been left to fester untreated.

Who the bloody hell was feeling something like this so intensely that he could sense it? And more importantly, what the hell was causing it?

Brushing off the guilt caused by the unexpected taint of agony that he clearly hadn’t noticed before, Theseus focused on the emotions and allowed them to pull him towards the person it came from.

He’d almost reached it when the door to his office slammed open and his connection was broken by the unexpected disturbance.

“For Merlin’s sake, knock Bagsby!” 

The young Auror went white at the unexpected anger from his superior and turned into a stuttering mess. By the time Theseus had managed to get what the imbecile wanted out of him and then deal with it, he had entirely forgotten about the unexpected emotional spike.

 

It would be another week before he remembered, and another two days after that before he found the time to look into it.

But by then it would be too late.

Nymphaea would have already reached the european continent and lost herself in the wilderness she's ached for. 

 

Free after so many years.

She would be beyond the reach of even the head of the British Aurors.

Not that she would realise this ofcourse

.

#### Aethelwulf Shacklebolt

##### Brother by Magic and Heart

##### 

For the first time in the years since the Great War had ended; Aethelwulf breathed a sigh without feeling the echoes of his closest friends’ pain.

He honestly had no idea how no one else who was close to her - _let alone her damn parents or that jackass brother_ \- had failed to notice. There were times when the second-hand pain was so overwhelming that he thought he was dying! 

He couldn’t imagine, _didn’t want to imagine_ , what it was like to feel it first-hand.

For all that he would miss her, Shack’s knew that he’d made the right choice as he felt a suffocating weight lift off of her. The pain was still there. Wounds that old wouldn’t heal instantly. But with time and freedom they would scar over and make her stronger for it.

He knew he had things to do today. People to hunt down, disappearances to look into, clients to meet... But he couldn’t find it within himself to care.

The further away she got, the less intensely he could feel her. The bond between them, once an ever-present constant had begun to dull to a soft humming in the back of his mind.

Shacklebolt savoured her presence knowing that if things worked out well, it would be a very long time before he felt her presence this strongly again. Even longer till he would see her in the flesh once more.

It was for the best though.

Perhaps if he kept reminding himself of that it would somehow hurt less.

She was the sister of his heart and he would do anything for her. Even let her leave, if it meant she would fly free and be happy.

.

Sighing softly, after many hours of waiting, he finally stood up from his position on the sea front. Nymphaea’s boat had disappeared from sight hours ago, but it was only now that he could no longer feel her.

Much as he may wish to stay there longer, there was work to be done and he had best prepare for Scamander. The man would eventually pull his head out of his ass enough to notice Nym’s disappearance (probably), and he wasn’t going to be caught by suprise when the bastard came looking and demanding answers.

If he planned it right, this might even be fun!

He'd wanted to take a crack at the fool for years and; with Nymphaea no longer here to defend him or frown disaprovingly;he could finally knock some sense back into the man.

War was horrific, but it didn't give the man the right to lash out at people that loved him and use them as verbal punching bags!

.

Theseus scamander needed to recieve an intervention.  
whether he was willing or forced, it didn't really matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls don't begin to expect constant updates thx to the last week or so.  
> I work at a cinema so F.B has been on my mind ALOT recently, what with the movie release
> 
> i hope you like it and do comment as it reminds me that this exhists.
> 
> oh god i need to start writing and updating my other fics soon...
> 
>  
> 
> Also WTF!!! One of you could have pointed out blurred has 2 r's  
> I feel like such a moron  
> if you notice any other spelling issues pls let me know  
> word and spellcheck only helps so much


	6. Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freedom is Liberating  
> but you cannot be free until all chains are broken.

Leaning against the railing of the ship. Nym breathed deeply.

In and Out.

In and Out.

In and Out.

With each passing moment the British shoreline became smaller, and the further away it got the less she felt like she was suffocating. Already the heavy weight of expectation and familial obligation was receding.

Away from the backwards society of wizarding Britain. She felt like she was finally breathing again after so long, no longer holding her breath and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

She had made the right decision, knew she should have done this years ago. If only the guilt at the idea of abandoning her loved ones and failing them had not crippled her so.

But the chains were broken now. 

Well..

All but one.

Closing her eyes. Nymphaea breathed in softly one more time before diving into her mind and focusing inward on her magical core. Carefully, softly, delicately she unwove the glamour that she was constantly wearing to alter her appearance. Nothing much really. 

But just enough. 

Just enough to pass as the girl she was before the war.

Just enough to hide the scars and the burns.

Just enough to hide the emptiness in her eyes.

Just enough to pass as human, when she’d long stopped being such.

Turning slightly so she that she was facing the mirror that hung on the wall of her travelling compartment, she opened her eyes.

The differences in her appearance were subtle. But all together they added up and it would be clear to anyone looking that she was something more. Something other.

There was a glow to her, soft and luminous. Almost as if there was a burning wildfire trapped beneath her skin and the light was bleeding out, unable to be fully contained. Unable to be fully caged.

The illusion of an inner flame was further strengthened by the fact that she gave off a constant wave of heat. Her skin was like a furnace, or so she had been told by a worried nurse before she’d learned to mask it. Truthfully Nym didn’t feel any warmer, though she had noticed she never felt cold anymore.

Her nails had also sharpened and hardened in a way that was similar to that of a predators claws, and her teeth had altered so that they were a cross between an omnivores and a carnivores. Subtle as it was, many who had glimpsed these changes had assumed it to be a trick of the light. Due to this, both had been weapons that none had expected, and ones that she had taken advantage of librally during the war when she had been captured or when she had been forced to fight in close quarters. She could still feel the blood underneath her nails; taste the coppery liquid in her mouth and feel the adrenaline rush on the days when the memories would not leave, hidden behind tight-lipped smiles and pretty platitudes.

The most obvious change of all though was her eyes. The soft almost grey blue had sharpened to a shade similar to that of the Lapis lazuli. Ringed and threaded with burning gold, the unnatural colouring was only heightened by the power that glowed in them. They cemented her position as a creature of flames. And if that wasn’t enough her pupils had changed into vertical slits reminiscent of the dragons she had worked with most often with during the war.

By all accounts, no one on the Empathy Project had expected the physical side effects of a prolonged near constant connection to the same creature.

Then again, they hadn't expected the psychological side effects either. Heightened senses and predatory instincts had only been the beginning. The longer they had spent delving into the minds of their creatures, the worst they had been effected. Nym would readily admit that she had been the most effected. Early on in the war, she had taken to sleeping with the dragons at night and the excess exposure had meant that she had started showing signs months before everyone else. 

Not everyone had coped well with the influx of changes, loosing themselves in the instincts and forgetting what it was to be human. Those that hadn't forgotten tried to help and for the most part it had been successful.

For the most part.

Watching the ministry observers put down three of their number had broken a part of Nym that she hadn't realised she still had. it had forced her to see that the world wasn't black and white. That just because the ministry wasn't evil, it didn't mean that they were good. It had created a wariness within her unit that meant that when the physical signs had begun to show they had hidden them with the help of Doctor Delacour. The man had been the one to devise the Empathy Project and did not wish to see any more of his test subjects killed. Especially when he considered them all to be a success. His lack of stigma towards what most considered lesser creatures had meant that he saw their new found abilities as gifts and not deformities.

They'd lied once more when the war had ended, claiming that the emotional and psychological effects had faded after prolonged separation from their creatures. Their superiors had swallowed it easily, putting it down to wizarding superiority as they called it. Their prejudice made them easy to dupe, unable to comprehend the idea that a wizards magic might be overpowered by that of a creatures.

Grinning to herself, Nymphaea firmly pushed aside such morbid thoughts and simply revelled in the freedom of her magic. No longer weighed down by the suffocating glamour, there was a lightness to it that she had missed.

Despite Aethelwulf’s offer to remove her glamour whenever she visited him, she had never taken it off on British soil. Too scared of being caught.

Unlike her, Shack’s had been more than willing to risk exposure seeing as his only ties left to england were herself and the comfort that came from growing up somewhere. She wondered what he would do now that she had left. Would he stay, or would he leave? Whatever the case he would let her know when he wanted her too.

The others, those from there unit that had survived the great war, had either hidden themselves under the same form of magic or disappeared into the wilde believing that to be free and alone was better than being caged by the prejudice of society.

Perhaps she could visit them. As much as she could feel them through their bonds, it wasn’t the same as visiting in person.

She would have to put another glamour on when she left her cabin, or whenever she wanted to visit populated areas, but with her plans to research magical creatures, she would likely go months at a time without any human contact. Without fear of discovery.

Things would be better now.  
She just had to stop looking back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ta da!
> 
> let me know what you think
> 
> also, I changed Nymphaea's birthday to 1899 as I wanted her to be underaged when ww1 started. i'm not sure why but it feels important


	7. A Realisation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Head Auror Scamander contemplates the last week, and thinks back on something that he really shouldn't have dismissed.  
> Oh well, its not like anything significant could happen in such a relatively short period of time. Right?

What in Merlin’s name was he missing. He knew that something had happened a week ago. He knew that it was important, life changing almost, for whoever felt it but he couldn’t for the life of him work out who it was. It was almost as if… almost as if they had gone too far away for him to feel the bond..

Could that be it? Had someone he was close to left Magical Britain behind without letting him know?

Yes, that made sense. But why wouldn't they have told him?

Leaning back in his chair, Theseus thought back on his week, frowning slightly. He just knew that he was right in thinking that someone had left, but he had met and talked with almost all of the people it could be at some point or other in the last week since then. In fact the only person he hadn’t spoken to in that time was Nym.

Nym!

Dread settled in his gut and horror numbed his mind.

Eyes widening in alarm as he blindly tore down his walls to reach for his sister... only to find her to be too far away.

He panicked.

Running out of his office he slammed into the elevator, not even bothering to hide his alarm. It was clear that some of his subordinates had been scared by his abrupt departure, but right now he honestly didn’t give a damn.

Barging into the Department of Creature Containment and Disposal he stalked right up to Abbotts and demanded “Where is she!”

Had he been in his right mind Theseus would have gone about this differently, but his mind was a mess of fear and terror as he tried to comprehend the fact that his sister was gone. No, Missing! And he hadn’t noticed. She could be in danger or injured!

The constant undercurrent of fear that he had felt since the war had reared up and he was unable to remember that it was a sense of **excitement** not pain or horror that had heralded Nymphaea’s disappearance.

Arching an eyebrow at him the elderly man stated dryly, “You will have to be more specific, Auror Scamander”

The snub to his position as head auror went unheeded as Theseus yelled “My sister dammit, where is my sister?!”

“Considering she resigned and hasn’t worked here since a week ago, I wouldn’t know” bit out Abbott frostily, obviously not liking the tone with which he was being spoken to with. “Now, was there anything else you wanted to know or did you barge in here for nothing?”

Reeling slightly from the fact his sister had quit and he hadn’t even known, Scamander pulled himself together before growling, “Don’t pull that shit with me Henrick, you and my sister got on well, you must have some idea about where she’s gone!”

If looks could kill, Theseus had no doubt he would be dead and buried, he still might be if he pissed the man off any more. Not that he particularly cared.

Before Abbotts could let loose what would have been a truly impressive list of expletives, a sharp but feminine voice broke in-

“Are you talking about Nymphaea?”

Turning sharply, Theseus found himself face to face with a rather pretty young woman. She couldn’t be much older than Nym, he thought distractedly.

“Yes” he said curtly as he pulled his mind back on track. “Do you know where she is?”

Inwardly cringing at the desperation that laced his words he looked at her hopefully.

“You really care about her, don’t you?” asked the woman, biting her lip uncertainly. It was obvious she knew something but was holding back.

“Yes” he pleaded helplessly. “She’s my little sister. I could never forgive myself if somethings happened to her”

Clearly coming to a decision, the woman looked him in the eyes and said, “I don’t know where she went…”

“But…” lead Theseus, for there was a but, he was sure of it.

“But I know who might. Aside from you, the only person that came to visit Nym at work was Shacklebolt. They would eat lunch together a lot, though they made sure not to be caught by anyone. I only found out because I left something on my desk and came back to get it.” Finished the woman in a rush, flush with embarrassment and possibly shame at betraying a colleague’s trust.

“Divina!” shouted Abbotts in outrage.

“Auror Shacklebolt?” asked Theseus in surprise. The man was gay, wasn’t he?

Looking nervously at her employer the woman focused on Theseus and said in a voice barely above a whisper, “no, Aethelwulf Shacklebolt.”

A knew target in sight, Theseus left without a backwards glace and barely a thank you.

Had he bothered to look, he would have seen the vicious smirk on Divina Rosiers face.

…

“I assume you had a reason for doing that Miss Rosier?” Questioned Abbott sharply.

“he wouldn’t have left without something Henrick” explained Divina primly. “Shacklebolt won’t tell him anything, he was the one that convinced Nym to take this opportunity.”

“Besides,” stated Rosier, a cruel grin spreading across her face once more. “Shacklebolt asked me to direct Scamander to him. We’re not the only ones that want to bring the Bastard down a peg or two, and unlike with you and me Scamander can’t make life difficult for Shacklebolt. If I read the situation right, he’ll probably be leaving Britain now that Nym's gone. She was the only thing holding him here.”

Surprise coloured Abbotts face, “Are you saying that what you implied was true! that Ms Scamander and Mr Shacklebolt are in a relationship Divina?”

“Once. They’re just friends now.” elaborated Divina “Good friends, but that’s it. From what I can tell it was something they both agreed on.”

Director Abbotts was quiet for a moment as he processed what he had just learned.

Then he started chuckling, only for it to devolve into full blown, roaring laughter.

The other members of the department watched on uncertain as to what had transpired but secretly glad that whatever it was had made their director laugh. He had been rather down since Ms Scamander left, they all had. Even if they were happy for her, they would all miss the kind and bubbly if somewhat awkward young woman.

When Henrick Abbott was finally able to get his laughter under control, he turned back to Ms. Rosier and said almost wistlefully "Would that I was a fly on that wall. It would have been worth the sacking just to let loose at the Bastard and see his face."

A wicked smile worked its way across Divinas face as she said "Shacklebolt promised me a pensieve memory."

If not for the standard silencing charms on all ministry offices, Abbotts second fit of Laughter would have been heard three departments away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have Updated!
> 
> It might be a while before I update again as I've been working on a long term future scene that came to me and honestly haven't had an opportunity to think write much else.
> 
> also, do you want me to continue writing bits from Theseus's perspective or do you want me to leave off once the head to head between him and Shacks happens?
> 
> Let me know what you think! it really does help and it keeps me focused on what i am writing.
> 
> if you are interested i have written other fics so let me know if you like any of them. :)


	8. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We must Confront our problems, if we ever wish to move forward

For all that Shacklebolt had anticipated Scamander’s anger, he had not expected the bastard to resort to violence straight away. _Clearly_ thought Aethelwulf dryly, _I have underestimated the legendary Scamander temper._

“I'll give you that one punch Scamander but if you do it again, I will make you regret it. Now what in Mordred’s name do you want”

“Where is she!”

“So now you notice she’s gone. Only took you about a week”

Scamander lunged at him again, clearly too caught up to think about using his wand. But Aethelwulf was ready for him this time and his fist never met its target. Aethelwulf’s did.

The auror was laid out for the count, a shocked look on his face that would have been funny if he wasn’t so pissed off right now.

“Clearly your ears are defective Scamander, because I thought I told you not to do that”

“Fuck you Shacklebolt”

“Oooooh, the big bad auror using vulgar _muggle_ language. How, plebian. What would your mother think?”

He knew Nym wouldn’t approve, but he needed to see the truth of him. To strip away the veneer of civility and see what lay within. 

The man rubbed Aethelwulf the wrong way. He always had. If it wasn’t his arrogance and false cheer, it was the way he treated those around him. Shacks hadn't known him before the war, so had no idea whether he had always been like this or changed because of it.

At the end of the day though, the violence of that time could only explain so much, and Theseus Scamander had long since lost the right to use such an excuse.

 

No longer winded, Scamander stumbled upwards; took a deep, calming breath and looked at him. Really looked at him. He took in the distain, the anger and the cold rage that was hidden in his eyes whenever he looked directly at him; like the Auror had committed some unspeakable crime against him

“What the bloody hell is your problem!”

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean” responded the man coolly.

“Don’t play games with me Shacklebolt! Do I really have to spell it out?”

“Apparently so.”

“Fine then. You despise me! I can see it in your eyes, though I can’t for the life of me think of anything that I’ve done”

That was all it took to break the man’s appearance of indifference.

“What have you done? What have you done! I’ll tell you what you’ve done you arrogant bastard! You treat everyone around you like shit. Your cruel, arrogant, capricious and patronising. The few times you deign to show emotions, its only so that you can use them to hurt or manipulate those around you. Watching the way you treat people, the way you treat Nym! It makes me sick. Day after day you hurt her with your belittling and condescension! You have humiliated her in front of her co-workers on a regular basis and your callous remarks have left her in tears on many an occasion. And yet-” cutting off sharply, Aethelwulf spent a moment pulling himself together before continuing in a nutral tone that sent chills down Scamanders spine “And yet, you have the nerve to stand there and act like you actually give a damn”

“She’s my sister, of course I care.” he protested weakly, but it was clear that Shacks words had hit their mark.

“you don’t treat her like you do.”

They both stood in silence for a moment. Theseus falling apart as he was forced to confront what he’d become. Aethelwulf in silent contemplation of the man who stood before him.

With his emotions in such a state, it was easy for Shacklebolt to see the psychological wound that Scamander had let fester in the years after the war. Not that he wanted to, it was much easier to deal with the bloke when he thought of him as an unrepentant bastard. Seeing that he was just an idiot who couldn’t cope and was lashing out at those that might help just made things more complicated.

Groaning softly, he took pity on the Auror and startled him out of his downward spiral by saying; “She’s left for the other continents to write that book on creatures she always dreamed of. Staying in Britain, working in an _office?_ it was destroying her. She needed to be free, to heal. And she’s not the only one. You need help Scamander. You may think you’re in control but you’re not. Nymphaea may have been willing to take the abuse but other wont. Talk to someone.”

Words of wisdom imparted, Shacklebolt turned and left the man standing in the alleyway.

If Theseus spent the rest of the day there, staring at the wall unseeing as he tried to rap his head around what he’d become? That wasn’t his problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Theseus!!!  
> when I asked both ElurosAthena and ShiranaiAtsune seemed to like my portrayal of Theseus and wanted more.  
> pls let me know if you like it!  
> I know it isn't long, but I already have another update on the line


	9. Unicorns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old wounds finally heal as a new adventure begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this loosely references rape  
> very vague though

The Back Forest, Germany

Bliss

It was the only way to describe how she felt in that moment.

Across from her a herd of unicorns grazed within the clearing and drank their fill from the crystalline lake. She had been watching these majestic beauties for nearly a week now and had been near overwhelmed with gratitude when they extolled to her the greatest of honours by allowing her to witness as the lake in question was purified. The ancient and powerful magic these creatures wielded was unbelievable and a sight that she had quickly copied for her private pensieve so that it would never be lost.

She had learned more about these wondrous being whilst witnessing them in the wilderness than she ever had from her books or the few times she’d managed to find them whilst trekking through the forbidden forest at Hogwarts

Lounging under a Pinetree Nymphaea idly sketched the unicorns as she basked in the tranquil aura that the powerful beings exuded with every breath. She could _feel_ the torn and battered edges of her soul being smoothed and tended to by there magic. Revitalising and permanent in a way that calming draught and the like could never be. This peace she felt was _real_ and was near addictive for someone like her who had gone so long without.

She turned from the bright creatures for a moment in order to jot down a few notes about their eating habits. It truly was intriguing how the herbivores seemed to be immune to most poisons. The way that they could chomp down on foxglove, aconite and hemlock just as often as any of the other, far safer, plants without any apparent effects to their health despite have consumed sizable amounts of poison was absolutely fascinating and led credence to many of the myths about them that had been classed as ludicrous until now.

She would have to be careful about putting this in her book though. There were far too many people willing to kill a unicorn for its power as it was. If she were to validate the idea that they had healing abilities that even Wixens would consider miraculous without creating some kind of deterrent, they would be hunted into extinction without a second thought. 

Human beings were selfish by nature. It was simply a fact of life that one had to accept if they wanted to interact with them.

Perhaps it was strange to refer to them as if she was no longer one of them, but the weeks that she had spent with the black forest had given her time to reflect on what she was and what she had once been, and she had eventually accepted that she had stopped being human, wixen or otherwise, a very long time ago. When exactly she had crossed that line, she wasn’t entirely sure, but she knew it had occurred during the war. But then, what hadn’t changed during that time of great bloodshed.

Maybe a curse bound to their blood in some way? She’d need help of course and a sacrifice. Magic of this magnitude didn’t come without a price…

She was broken from her dark musings by something warm and soft nudging her. 

Looking up she startled slightly as she realised that it was one of the unicorns. _A unicorn was touching her. A unicorn was touching **her!**_ awe swept through her as she reached up uncertainly and began to stroke its- his head lightly. She’d touched one before of course. Had regularly petted and stroked the herd that lived in the forest during her first and second year. But after Malfoy had r- after what Malfoy had _done_ to her in third year well, she hadn’t dared. Shame and fear had kept her away from the herd, unwilling to risk the rejection. 

Then the war had happened. Even if her purity had remained intact before then it wouldn’t have been after. She had taken comfort in the fact that She had been the one to choose her paramours this time, enjoying their presence in a way she had not expect. There presence had been a comfort during the war, some more so than others. In the end the taint that Malfoy left had been washed away by those she had take to her bed, till the only thing left was a searing hot hatred for the bastard. As well as a bitterness that he had left her unable to interact with such creatures before she was ready. 

A bitterness that was now being washed away by the beast before her.

Tears of both grief and happiness trickled from her eye as she buried her face in the beast’s side.

“Thank you” she whispered softly, shakily as she finally pulled away. She didn’t say anymore unable to put what she felt into words.

She doubted she needed to though. The knowing look in his eyes told her that he understood.

The warm of his magic surrounded her and she closed her eyes as a series of images flittered across her mind.

Chuckling weakly Nym continued to stroke him as she said “yes, I suppose your right, whilst purity of the body is important, it is the heart that matters most.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I legit just posted but I've had this playing on my mind for weeks and I wanted to know what you think!
> 
> I'm thinking the next few chapters should just be a few extracts from her travels? what do you think?
> 
> if you want you can send me suggestions  
> I cant guarantee I'll use them, but I'll definitely try


	10. the Darkness Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monsters live inside each and every one of us  
> and sometimes they win. 
> 
> But that’s ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick acknowledgement to "The Monster Blog of Monsters" on tumblr. I used them to help with researching the Nachkrapps and will likely be using them later on in this fanfic as a source. it is a brilliant tumblr that explains fantasy/mythological creatures in a way that allows them to fit into the wizarding world. I might alter and add more detail to others a bit for my own purposes but they are the original source so thx u to them. (I wont use them for everything but they will no doubt be a huge help.)

The deep, throaty kraa’s of the Nachtkrapps above her echoed ominously throughout the low hanging branches. The guttural sounds of the shadow deamons intertwined with the fluttering of their wings and the creaking of the tree branches. They created an eerie symphony that acted only to heighten the sense of unease that dogged her footsteps.

Nym had been in the black forest for a little over 3 months now and had grown use to the sounds of the forest, to hear it so close to silent and devoid of life was… unnerving.

Long spindly branches of a bone white colouring clawed at her clothes and slashed at her skin. She recognised the warning for what it was but could not turn back. The forest had opened itself to her and provided a place of solitude and shelter when she was at her lowest. Its inhabitant had healed the wounds of her soul and allowed her to rest within their home. She had learned and done so much here, she couldn’t -wouldn’t!- abandon it to face this threat alone. She owed it too much to turn back now.

Carefully avoiding the stares of the ravenlike beings above her, Nym slowly assessed her surroundings in an attempt to find whatever had drawn their interest. To see so many of their kind gathered here, left little doubt that there would be carrion about. She could only pray that it was not the bodies of children.

Numb as she was to death on a grander scale, she was not heartless. The loss of any innocent never failed to strike her at her core.

She could tell she was almost there when she smelt it. The bitter stench of fear, mixed with the rotting scent of death, and seasoned with a predator’s desire, left a foul taste on her tongue. Bearing her fangs slightly in distaste she pushed forward faster. 

It was as she approached a clearing that she saw him.

His clothing marked him as a wizard just as surely as the magically expanded tent he stood before. Dressed in a fine suit that was ruined by the inclusion of a rust coloured cloak, the man was too focused on the creature he was butchering to notice her presence. 

Moving softly closer, she approached with a light footstep. She couldn’t loose her temper. It would do nothing. The poor creature was already at risk and…

A choked sob broke through her thought process and had her seeing red.

The hatchl- little girl couldn’t be more than 5, yet she was covered in cuts and bruises. Her soft silver curls were matted to her head and her skin was a sickly white that couldn’t be natural. Nym couldn’t see her eyes, but she imagined they would be smudged and hollow.

A snarl worked its way past her lips before she could think, and the rhythmic funk of the meat cleaver halted. 

Reaching behind him, the man grabbed the youngling in a brutal grip and dragged her before him. 

Whether he did so to use as a shield or bait was uncertain, but it only stoked the inferno had burned inside of her. He would pay for his crimes.

The presence of a living being that could end up hurt helped to temper her mounting emotions, but not by much. She needed to deal with this; and quickly; before she lost it and gave in to the more primal part of her. 

This needed to be clean if she didn’t wish to traumatise the poor dear any further then she had been.

“~Come out, come out whoever you are! I know you're out there. I can smell your fear~”

Scoffing slightly at the blatant lie, Nym prowled into the clearing like the predator she was and watched as the fool relaxed. A grin spreading across his face as he took in her petite frame and feminine looks and saw only another victim and not the beast that lay within. 

Fool.

Having spent so long in the forest, he should know that looks could be deceiving.

“Oh, aren’t you a sweet little thing” he cooed sickeningly as he undressed her with his eyes. “I bet you’d look a right sight on my table. Now, if you’re a very good little darling, I’ll keep you around to look after my baby girl. She could use a maternal figure in her life. With a bit of training I'm sure you'll be a proper role model unlike her whore of a mother. Ain’t that right sugar.”

The smile slipped from his face at the lack of response and a scowled flickered across it as he twisted the poor girls arm behind her back. The shriek of pain he elicited in response sent a shiver down his spine and Nym was repulsed to realise that the merlin cursed bastard was _aroused_ by the pain.

Desperate to stop him from hurting her any more than he already had, she moved further into the clearing and asked him why he was doing this. All the while attempting not to cringe at the horridly cliché question.

That was a mistake.

“Why am I doing this?” he mimicked. 

“I’m doin' it because I enjoy it! Because I can make money from it! That’s something you birds never understand. All you see is the creatures and their sad little faces. If they were so precious and perfect, they wouldn’t have been stupid enough to be caught in my traps!”

Nymphaea didn’t even try to hide her disgust and horror, and he laughed.

He _**laughed**_.

Perhaps, if he hadn’t tightened his grip on the girls’ arm until she cried out in pain…

Perhaps, if he hadn’t looked at her like she was a slab of meat at his disposal…

Perhaps, if he hadn’t laughed as if the bodies that surrounded him meant nothing…

But he had.

His body dropped to the floor as blood sprayed from his jugular. The girl screamed, but it was tinged with shock rather than horror. She felt no pity for the man who had hurt her and so many others.

The coppery sweetness that now coated Nymphaea’s tongue and canines was maddening. She spat out the fleshy chunk she had ripped from his neck and tried to regain control of her waring instincts. She hadn’t intended to kill him, but she wasn’t sorry. The threat was gone, the forest was no longer at risk, and the little girl was no longer in danger.

Eventually the part of her that demanded she check over the injured hatchling beat down the part of her that demanded she mutilate her prey for his crimes.

Crouching down slowly so that she was at the same eye level as the girl; she made sure to keep her hands lowered, but in a way that the little one would be able to see if she moved them. 

Her heart clenched as she realised that the hatchling wasn’t 5 but around 7 or 8. How abominably had she been treated that her growth had been so severely stunted? No, she could deal with that later. As much as it pained her, there were more important issues at hand.

“What’s your name?” Nym asked, in a measured and even tone that she hoped was unthreatening. She knew how she must look; what with the man’s blood still smeared across her skin; but she didn’t want to perform any magic until she had developed some measurement of trust between the two of them.

The girl stared at her for a long moment before speaking in a voice that was cracked and horse from disuse yet still tinted with an inhuman tone “Tyra. Tyra Morrigan Krauss”

“Untamed Queen of Thunder. That is a very apt name for someone who has survived such a monster with their spirit intact.”

“Fenton said that only creatures and half breeds could be monsters”

“I’ll tell you a secret Tyra, and it’s a secret that most people don’t like to admit. Monsters live inside each and every one of us and sometimes they win. But that’s ok. Because it’s what you do with the monstrous parts of yourself that matter. Do you understand?”

Tyra spent an agonising few seconds searching her for any kind of deceit before saying; “Fenton wasn’t evil because he was a monster, he was evil because of what he did.”

“That’s right” Nym agreed with a faint tone of approval. 

“Now, I know you don’t really know me but how would you like to come with me Tyra. You can leave whenever you want, and I’ll try and find somewhere for you to call home. If that’s what you want that is. It's your choice Tyra. I won’t take that from you.”

Offering her hand, she waited as the hatchling came to a decision. Leaving her alone in the forest would quite possibly destroy her, but she would give her this choice. The forest would keep her safe, or at least try. 

The feeling of a delicate, bony hand sliding into her own caused a blinding smile to flicker across Nymphaeas face. The smile stayed there throughout their entire journey back to her camp as she animatedly explained anything and everything to do with the creatures that drew her little Thunderers attention. 

 

Fenton Jones was the first person she had killed since the war had ended. He would not be the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you might wonder why Tyra trusted Nymphaea so easily considering she's obviously been abused severely. you might even think that this response is unrealistic. the reason for this is, well, magic. Nymphaea and Tyra are rather similar on a personal level. even if Tyra doesn't understand it, her magic will call to Nym's and push for her to trust her. in time they would/will most likely develop a familial bond. add that Nym herself is responding to her magic and is basically her saviour? yeah Tyra is gone go with her.
> 
> The whole bit about monsters is Nym using some of her own insight and experience to guess at the situation. Fenton has been telling Tyra she's a monster for as long as she remembers. Nym cant make that disappear and with it so deeply rooted its unlikely that Tyra will be able to forget or move on entirely. instead, Nym is going to try and change the connotations that the little girl associates with being a monster. i.e: freedom instead of needing to be caged, truth instead of darkness, neutral instead of evil, potential, protection... after all, this is what worked for her.
> 
> Also, as you may have noticed I deleted the character chapter. aesthetic mood boards for each character can be found on my Tumblr if you want to look as well as other things.
> 
> j-a-n-e--d-o-e Fanfiction Is My Life


	11. All Wound Heal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...but that doesnt mean they wont scar.

Getting used to little Tyra’s presence was easier than expected.

There were times of course when things became… difficult. They both had their scars and Tyra’s were still fresh from her time with Jones. 

For the most part though, the little girl was like any other child her age. If perhaps a little small. For all that she had been exposed to life’s worst at such a young age; she was rather naive and innocent, and Nym could not help but take delight in being the one to expose her to the things - _both little and small_ \- that made life worth it.

Sometimes it was witnessing a new creature in the wild, other times it was something simple like the pleasure of ice cream on a hot and sunny day.

Tyra was as much a creature of the wilde as Nym and had truly begun to flourish during their travels. She had come to recognise the creatures within Nymphaea’s case as kindred spirits and had taken with gusto to helping her care for them.

The girl would still watch Nym out of the corner of her eye, she would still wake up sobbing yet make no sound, and occasionally her eyes would become hollow and she would look as if she had once more been caught within the shadows with no hope of light. 

But this was to be expected.

Pain does not simply dissapear once the cause is gone and not all scars could be magicked away. It would be far more worrying if Tyra had shown no signs of harm. To repress something like that never ended well, more so for those with magic than those without it.

Right at the beginning, when the nightmares had been constant and Tyra appeared to only be getting worse… Nymphaea wouldn’t deny that she had thought about erasing it. Tyra was young enough that she could start off anew as someone else without much issue. no bad memories, no pain and no night terrors, but Nym couldn’t do it. Not to her. Not to this little girl who had survived so much.

It may have been easier, it may have been the accepted practise in Britain and may even have been the accepted practice for healers at St. Mungo’s, yet all Nymphaea could think of was that such a violation would be tantamount to killing Tyra. Perhaps her own experiences with mind magic were clouding her judgement, but as far as she was concerned, your thoughts ad feelings were what made you who you are. Even the painful and dark ones. To take them away was to take away a person’s very being.

Despite all these issues it was obvious to Nym that she was Healing. Tyra would never forget, but she would move on and be stronger for it. Sharp edges and all.

With each passing moment her smiles became brighter, her eyes began to lose that haunted look and there was a growing confidence within her that made Nyms inner dragon purr with pride.

.

Nymphaea could not help but be curious about the ease with which her thunderer had taken to caring for her creatures. She had asked at the beginning if she had any experience, thinking that that _man_ had made her tend to the beings he butchered but the girl had responded in the negative. 

It was almost instinctual the way that she cared for them. Especially those that were predominantly of the sky.

It made Nym wonder just who or what her mother was and whether the nickname she had given her had been less a flight of fancy caused by the meaning of her ward’s name and more along the lines of a premonition.

Nym was no seer. She did not have visions, nor did she give prophecies. However, she had enough of a gift for the arcane arts that she would receive insights. Not much certainly, but enough that she knew better than to doubt the stray thoughts, sudden instincts or vague impressions that tried to guide her. Present based scrying was also at her disposal but that was a story for another day.

It was with this in mind that Nym chose to leave Germany earlier than she had originally planned and head towards South America. Specifically, a lake in Venezuela called Maracaibo that was known for its unusual amount of thunder storms. 

If her hunch was right, there was a colony of storm elementals living there and that was why the area was subjected to not just storms but lightning nearly every moment of the year.

No matter how much Nymphaea had grown to love Tyra, if the girl was an elemental, she would need training that Nym just wasn’t capable of giving her.  
The colony would be able to tell her if Tyra was in fact one of them and provide for the little ones in ways she could not.

Unbidden, tears started to form in her eyes at the fact that she might lose her little thunderer, but she harshly brushed them away. This wasn’t about her, it was about what Tyra needed. 

She couldn’t be selfish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy.
> 
> let me know if theres any especially horrific spelling

**Author's Note:**

> This idea is something i just thought up and trying to write a blurb ended up drastically changing it.  
> the first chapter is just a taster of one of the later scenes to see if anyone likes this and whether or not its worth continuing.
> 
> pls let me know


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